


The Adventures of Not-So-Baby Steve

by catty_the_spy



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Gen, past de-aging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 18:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catty_the_spy/pseuds/catty_the_spy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s adjusting to not being a baby. Everyone else is adjusting too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Not-So-Baby Steve

**Author's Note:**

> A coda to Baby Steve Adventures. I’ve been having a bad…well…month really. So I thought I’d spread some comfort around.

The kitchen is a wreck. The ceiling is gone, water is spraying from several broken pipes, and the refrigerator is making mournful beeping noises at irregular intervals.

In the middle of the destruction is Cap and The Chair. Cap is roughed up and his shield is embedded in the wall, but the chair is hardly even dusty. Cap is staring at it in disbelief.

Tony lights just outside the disaster zone. “Huh.”

Cap looks at him with wide eyes. “Are all of these things that tough?”

Tony walks over, glass crunching under his armored feet. “Strong enough to kill a guy? No. Strong enough to stand up to _you_ killing a guy? Definitely not.”

“Then how-?”

“I do believe I’ve outdone myself.”

Tony blows some of the dust off the seat. The little American flags on the seat of the highchair are pristine as ever.

  


Steve blushes guiltily when Bruce walks in, hiding his hands behind his back. “Hi!”

Holographic balls are everywhere. The ones that Steve was juggling slowly drift down to the floor.

Bruce blinks at him, eyebrows raised. “You’ve been busy.”

“I’m sorry. I was looking for something to do and JARVIS said that this program was designed specifically for me, and next thing I know they’re everywhere. I hope I haven’t caused too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Bruce says, walking through the balls as if they aren’t there. And they aren’t really; they roll away as if he’s kicked them, but they’re impossible to trip over. “I’m actually used to it.”

Steve sits on the stool near Bruce’s workstation. “You took care of me a lot when I was, ah, out of commission?”

Bruce grins. “While you were turned into a baby? Yes. I had plenty of opportunity to get used to these.”

To demonstrate, Bruce picks up one of them and turns it into a star. When he throws it, it shatters against the ceiling like a firework, with lots of smaller stars raining down on them.

“You loved it when I did this,” Bruce says, making another star. “One day you started throwing shapes at me to see what else I could do with them. I was lucky they were just holograms.”

Bruce glances at Steve to see him staring in awe at the rain of stars. Baby or no, the expression is the same.

Smiling, Bruce turns the next ball into a triangle.

  


Steve and Thor sit side by side on the sofa, several tiny jars on either side of them. On the coffee table are more jars, as well as a bowl of sweet potato fries, two sweet potato pies, and a sweet potato casserole. Some sort of sweet potato and shrimp soup had already been devoured.

“What’s in this?” Steve asks, squinting at the letters on the side of one of the jars.

“It contains only sweet potatoes, processed in such a way as to be palatable to infants.”

Steve frowns. “This is baby food?”

“Indeed.” Thor beams. “I discovered this foodstuff whilst you were under enchantment. The myriad ways it can be prepared amaze me.”

Steve hums thoughtfully and takes another bite. “Do we have to eat it with such tiny spoons?”

“Do they not make it easier to remove the puree from the jar? I find the average spoon to be much too large.”

Steve could see that.

“Tomorrow we will begin our day with the cream of wheat. Our friend Bruce insisted it would be to our advantage whilst you were an infant, and I have found that with a bit of honey it is most delightful!”

  


“Ah shit.”

“Swear jar,” Pepper says from behind her tablet, not even looking up.

“Sh-oot.”

“We have a swear jar?” Steve asks, looking away from the stove.

Clint sighs. “Yeah, Pepper wanted to ‘deter inappropriate language in front of the…’” Clint pauses. He slowly turns to stare at Pepper. “You asshole! Give me my money back!”

“Contributions to the swear jar are non-refundable,” JARVIS says, sounding vaguely smug.

Clint mumbles something under his breath and steals some of Steve’s bacon. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

Pepper looks up from her tablet and grins. “Of course not, Steve. You’ve been really helpful. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Tony. I think we can both agree that he deserves it.”

Tony’s his friend, but he’s also a pain in the ass. After a brief moment of hesitation, Steve nods.

A few hours later, Tony swears at something Natasha’s said.

“Swear jar,” Pepper says.

“Shit, Pep, come on, give me a break here. That was totally fucking justified.”

Tony starts trying to bargain, and Steve sneaks a glance at Pepper. She winks at him.

  


Steve halts at the door to the gym when he sees Natasha curled into some sort of complex ball, talking into a headset at the same time. An earpiece. A…Bluetooth? Steve’s still not sure what it’s called, but he does think it’s swell.

“I told you, he’s the right weight. How old is he, like…six months? What no, I swear, nothing dangerous.”

Something about this one sided conversation makes Steve consider running away. Just as he takes a step back, Natasha sees him.

“I gotta go,” she says to whoever she’s talking to. “Think about it, alright?”

With the call ended, Natasha unfolds into a handstand. “Good afternoon, Steve.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting…I…”

“You’re wondering what I need a baby for,” Natasha says matter-of-factly. She’s twisting herself into another impossible shape, and Steve feels uncomfortable just watching. 

He can feel himself blushing, and Natasha’s smirk makes it that much worse.

“While you were a baby I used you to help me exercise,” she explained. “So was Clint, but in a different way. Some of it was a lot like what you find in your average mommy-and-me yoga class, and the rest…” She straightens faster than should be humanly possible and lands on her toes, perfectly balanced.

Steve gets the idea.

“Did you want to spar?”

  


Steve’s not entirely sure why there’s a baby swing hanging in Fury’s office, and the director’s face is reason enough not to ask. The junior agents on the helicarrier seem awfully happy to have Steve back.

One of them accidentally hands Steve an expletive filled memo on “how not to kill a national fucking icon”, but they cry so hard that he doesn’t bother looking for an explanation.

This is one secret he’ll let them keep.

  


Frigga’s hand on his face is warm, and the world is soft around the edges. 

“You have suffered no ill effects,” she says and Steve hums in response. Her laugh is lovely.

He hasn’t felt this warm since the last time Peggy kissed him. He could live in this feeling forever.

He must’ve said it out loud, because Frigga’s face is soft and sad.

Steve doesn’t remember much about the spell, but the clearest memory he has is of the last day. One moment he was small and warm, falling asleep surrounded by ships and stars and a warm kind voice, and the next he was alone and cold, back to his proper size. There were a lot of things in Bruce’s room, baby things – a Moses-basket, and toys, and rows of tiny clothes on tiny hangers in the closet. Steve had been disoriented and scared, and it was hours before he felt like himself again. When Bruce had come in, a few minutes after Steve woke up, he’d touched Steve’s shoulder like he might break.

Frigga doesn’t ask him to explain. She makes Steve look her in the eye. 

“Ice may conquer the world for a time, but not forever. You’ll find the warmth again. It’s nearer than you think.”

She smiles like she’s entrusted him with a great secret.

When she leaves, she gives him the same embrace she gives Thor. The warmth lingers.

  


It’s three am and Steve’s room feels emptier than usual.

Most of the junk they accumulated while Steve was a baby has been donated to a very nice organization with Steve’s name on it. The rest is somewhere in the tower, Steve’s not sure where. The highchair is in Tony’s office, set up as an ode to Tony’s genius.

Steve’s asked JARVIS to up the temperature in his room three times but it doesn’t seem to be working.

Steve never thought he’d miss being the little guy, but heavens to Betsy he _does_. It’s silly. He has a job to do, a duty to perform, and he can’t abandon the world to play with holographic stars.

Maybe this was Loki’s plan all along: to make him miss something he doesn’t really remember.

Steve sits up, sighing.

“JARVIS, I hate to bother you…”

“Would you like me to raise the temperature again, sir?”

“No, thank you. I was wondering if you had any books on tape? Or maybe a radio show that I could listen too?”

“Certainly. Do you have any requests?”

“Anything you feel like playing is fine.”

“Very well, sir. If I may, you found these selections quite soothing. I can begin whenever you are ready.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

JARVIS ends up reading “Horton Hatches The Egg” and “Horton Hears A Who”. There’s more, but Steve doesn’t remember it. He starts to drift off in the middle of “a person’s a person no matter how small”, and all he takes with him is JARVIS’s crisp calm voice.

  


Thor is roasting a rather large animal on the roof. It doesn’t look like anything that could be found on earth. There’s a sweet potato casserole in the oven with a thick layer of marshmallows over the top, and a lot of sushi from Tony’s favorite place.

“We’re having a party,” Natasha says. She has more ice cream than Steve has ever seen in his life, in flavors he thinks are jokes. All of the cartons are labeled “DO NOT TOUCH UNTIL AFTER DINNER”, and Steve wisely decides to save his investigation for later.

Clint’s popping cheap generic popcorn in the microwave.

“Did I miss something?” Steve asks. Bruce’s curry is on the stove. And there’s a shepherd’s pie. “I know I overslept and I apologize.”

“You didn’t miss anything,” Natasha says, as Tony comes waltzing into the kitchen.

“You’re fine, Briar Rose. You woke up just in time.”

They eat this impromptu feast in the living room, watching a strange show with a happy colored man in a fuzzy orange hat.

“It makes Bruce happy,” Tony whispers. “He got hooked on it when you were pintsized.”

“Ah,” Steve says. He still doesn’t quite get it.

It _is_ a nice show, when you get past the puppets and the over-excitement soaking everything. And anyway, Bruce likes it; anything that keeps Bruce relaxed is a thing worth trying.

Bruce is bobbing his head with the music. It’s pretty catchy.

The TV shows two episodes back to back. When those are done, Tony shouts “finally!” and gets JARVIS to start a slideshow.

“What’s-”

Clint shushes him, so Steve eats his mysterious roasted animal, and his curry, and his sushi, and doesn’t say anything else.

He almost chokes when the first picture comes up. It’s Hulk holding a baby, and there’s a caption that says “When Hulkie Met Stevie”.

“We forgot to tell you,” Natasha says while Thor pounds Steve’s back. “We’re remembering baby-you tonight. It’s the anniversary of when you were first cursed.”

There are video clips as well as pictures, and it goes on for hours. Steve knew that JARVIS captured everything that went on in the tower, but he’d never thought about it until he saw the evidence very nicely edited and presented to him.

“You were curious,” Bruce says, “and we’ve noticed that you were a bit withdrawn. We decided to kill two birds with one stone.”

“You need not be uncomfortable discussing your time under enchantment,” says Thor, “and likewise, if you are going through difficulties now that the spell has been removed, we are here to provide assistance.”

“We were worried about you, Grandpa.” Tony shrugs. “This seemed like the best way to say.”

Clint doesn’t say anything. He tosses popcorn at the back of Steve’s head. The screen is playing a video of Steve chewing his armguards.

Natasha offers Steve blue ice cream with a name that Steve has no hope of pronouncing. “Relax, Steve. We’ve got you.”

Steve guesses they do.


End file.
